


Another Version of Truth

by ancientwinters



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angsty Innuendos, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overabundance of Tony Stark's Pointless Babble, Poor Pants Jokes, Pre-Slash, Pseudoscience, Retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientwinters/pseuds/ancientwinters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When all realms meet in the convergence, their fate is at stake, and for inhabitants - and prisoners - of Asgard it is high time to choose sides. Obviously, the interstellar party couldn't start until Tony Stark walks in.</p><p><b>FrostironFest Gift Request #75<br/></b><br/><b>Prompt:</b> Tony meeting Loki while he is caged up in Asgard. (It could be to help him use his Iron Man suit in space ect.) He only then finds out of Frigga’s death and in some ways attempts to comfort Loki, however he is awful at it. And also, a bonus, <b>second prompt: </b>Loki losing his illusion that makes him look human(Frost Giant reveal).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Version of Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hotterhatter2211](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotterhatter2211/gifts).



> Hello! I am so very, very sorry for the delay but as we all know, Christmas is tricky when it comes to time management. Also, what was initially planned as a shortfic focused entirely on one single scene grew uncontrollably into almost 15k words long full story godzilla. For that I will not apologize :]  
> Please, bear in mind that I'm a totally first-time writer. Totally. You might hold me responsible for planning out a few stories, but using words is definitely not my forte. Also, I'm hardly a native English speaker, so all the mistakes, typos and redundancies are on me. Don't blame Loki, he's had enough of it already!  
> I want to thank my wonderful, amazing beta, **strayalchemist** , for the effort of dealing with my writing-related rants and anxiety.
> 
> Happy Yule, **hotterhatter2211** and everyone in general! :)
> 
> P.S. It seems that it's just a first part one of something much bigger, keep your fingers crossed! :)

 

_I guess seventy-two hours is a long time between siestas. Didn't think it could get any worse, then I had to go and turn on the TV._

_That's when everything started._

 

What you're gonna do when you save the world?

 

* * *

 

It's not about losing the only house that I’ve ever called home, together with all its contents. I say, contents, damnit – that’s so much more than just stuff if I chat with it regularly, huh?

It's not about friggin’ Mandarin either. What kind of name is that, even? Is it legal? Doubt it.

No, it's not even about Pepper. She's tough, much tougher than anyone believes, including herself. She'll be over it, finally. Hopefully. You hear it, Pep? That's what you are. I'm sorry, so sorry, i didn't mean to... Just being unable to say goodbye, directly - _again_ \- that hurts. That's what it's called, I guess. The feeling strangely similar to ARC being pulled out. Fascinating. Kinda.

It's about losing it all in such stupid, simple, primitive way when I finally stopped to be an ass, when I discovered that things matter, things I ignored for like, more than thirty years and it was so impossibly dumb I almost can’t believe it. It's about ending up as a pitiful piece of scrap metal with some rotten flesh inside, at the bottom of the bay. No credit to the fish, sorry. The suit, even in its toddler state, is hermetically sealed, _safe_. I'm still awesome, it seems. Sooo, at least the DNA will be preserved, right? Right?

_[static]_

Right. Make a good use of it, make me taller next time or something.

The power is almost out. I have, like thirty seconds of broadcast left, so sorry if my voice isn't as charming as usual, I guess I'm starting to suffocate and it's awfully dark, oops, tunnel vision ahead. Hey, Rhodey, remember last time it happened? Don't tell anyone, man. That's too embarrassing even when I'm dead.

_[Some more static]_

Ooookay, so I guess my time's up. Luv ya. I’m serious. I am. It's just the shortest version possible so it's perfectly justified not to be overly touchy-feely in such a moment. Three, two,

_[Static]_

Fuck. You know what? This bunch of scrap is still working. I got power. It's just... it's external. What the flying...

_[Explosion, more static. Finally, silence]_

 

'Oh. Hey! Heeey, I'm talking to you, you bulky as Capsicle… you? Whatever the heck you are? You don't get a word of what I'm sayin', right?'

It literally sucks, to wake up in the middle of nowhere, pale gold of Tony Stark's newest child closer to the shade of cheap curry, or simply, thick mud. Suit's shape got imprinted in soft, wet ground after what must have been quite an impressive crash landing. It's better than he couldn’t recall it.

No usual wavelengths or transmissions. Not even a whisper of radio broadcast in perfectly clean, clear air, no white jets' paths on impossibly blue sky. Small wooden sheds, most of them burnt to the ground, dirt and ashes and something resembling blood covering sad remnants of tiny village.

Some residue power, way too much residue power in such primitively-looking place, of the kind Tony tried to get rid of from his New York tower, after one particular Norse godling decided to get the space party started without consulting the property's owner. Despite excruciating tiredness, what's left of Tony’s banged-up brain instantly focused on these fascinating anomalies, looking for logic in all this becoming obvious priority.

Yet this guy, at least seven feet tall, covered in scales and swinging something resembling cast iron French baguette was all the explanation he'd ever wish for. Either dudes who wrote the Bible were stoned and that's how the afterlife actually looked like, or recreating home-made version of pocket intergalactic teleport generator in one's basement was, in a way, a perfect idea. At least this one time.

'Okay, forget it. Sorry for the trouble.' Suit’s faceplate closed just before the first blow, blunt and harmless, but still, uncomfortable, making Mark 47 and its contents end up on a pile of curry goo with undignified _oof_ and a loud splash.

The sudden realisation of being alive against all odds changed everything, made Tony’s headache go away in an instant, mind again sharp and all five senses even sharper. Distant thunder in the background. Slight discomfort in the left leg, sprained ankle, probably – it was nothing, as well as broken nose and burst lip. It all became so very simple, no matter the circumstances. Voices, not important, not now. Breathe in, breathe out, turn, yellowish ground zooming out in familiar, comforting way, amazing feeling of regained control, still no JARVIS’ voice, directing, reassuring, but he was somewhere, the power never went down, not completely, _he's alive, we're both, all, alive_ and nothing else mattered.

Point, turn, dirty metal glove connecting with opponent's skull with precisely calculated force, sending him to the ground, sprawled. Elegant, full-body flourish before Tony’s trademark three-point landing, no matter nobody could see it.

'Lower your weapon, golem!' Female voice came from behind. Somebody saw it after all, which suddenly made the whole encounter so much more worth the effort.

'Please, really? That is definitely _not_ my face.'

About _her_ face. SHIELD database was kind enough to provide several decent photos of various extraterrestial beings, most of them rather gross, so forgetting this one would be absolutely unforgivable. All the gears clicked in their proper places, turning earlier hypothesis into something resembling empirical fact.

'I'm kinda inside, so if you allow...' Tony raised his hands, empty, no matter how deceiving it was, quickly unclasping helmet's safety levers. Warrior woman's eyes widened for a split second, sign of recognition clear enough to relieve last remnants of wariness, mutually. She shrugged, proceeding to tug at arrow lodged in her overly decorative shield.

'Thor, I believe I found something that belongs to you, come and get him before he tries to drown me in his doubtful charm,' she yelled in the general direction of shrubbery surrounding the sad excuse for a village, rolling her eyes in a manner Tony Stark himself could not unappreciate.

Finally, he smiled. 'So, Dorothy, we're not in Midgard anymore.'

 

* * *

  

‘Don’t get me wrong, I really think your friggin’ crazy not at all brother should be locked somewhere far away and held there well, _forever_ would be the best.’

After a few hours of convincing, intimidating, begging and finally, slightly tricky yet still pretty innocent bribe in a form of promise that he'll be allowed to take a closer look at Asgardian armours, Tony Stark found himself dressed in something fairly resembling a t-shirt and pants, no matter ridiculous golden embroidery running around tunic sleeves and funny feeling of leather hugging his ass. Also, attending a real, Viking party, complete with loud singing, suspiciously smelling booze he didn't dare to try, impossible amounts of greasy, flat-tasting food and traditional glassware-throwing. Even with his seriously impeded social skills and overgrown ego he had absolutely no doubts that this occurrence was an absolute exception from a general rule, him being here dangerously close to epic faux-pas, words _puny mortal_ printed on his forehead in bold, capital runes or whatever these weirdos used. The only reason for his presence - and the begging - was Thor, now sitting on his right, his powerful shoulders slouched, wrapped in a thick, stormy sky-coloured cloak which seemed completely improper for such a joyous event. Apparently everybody cared for the thunderer's good mood, enough to let his old mortal pal cheer him up, no matter how improper it was. Some serious shit.

‘But?’ Thor's baby-blue eyes brightened in hopelessly sincere way, just to go dark again after one pitiful second, as if he was trying to exploit any chance, any piece of data which might prove that all this was just a misunderstanding - and not believing in this possibility at all at the exactly same time. Tony's pathetic substitute for a heart clenched a bit behind reactor's thick wall, but it didn't stop his mouth from letting the words out.

‘How did you know that there is any?’

Thor managed to smile, against all odds. It was a small, sad smile, not suiting his features at all, but it was there.

'There are times when you and Loki seem to be very much alike, my friend Tony.'

'What, that sick bastard?'

Wait, that was Thor speaking. Thor, who just adored his insane brother, even now, when he was locked up and it was probably illegal to feel any sympathy for him. Who thinked of him as the smartest, wisest person in all the realms – no matter how many of them were there. Who missed him and loved him and needed him and suffered from not being able to express it in such evident way it almost hurt the eyes. Who'd probably give up close to anything to fix this mess they both had started. Weirdest compliment like, ever.

And now, Thor was finally giving up and it was destroying him, like losing last shreds of hope was tearing his soul apart and setting on fire exactly half of it.

'Hey, don't look at me this way.' Tony finally risked taking a small sip of golden liquid. It burned his lips and his throat. Good. 'I mean, dunno, thanks, I guess. What I'm trying to say is, I don't really know him. At least he allowed me to babble for a bit before trying to kill me and it was kinda nice? The conversation itself was nice too, in a way.' He bit his lip, cursing internally his lack of brain-to-mouth filter. 'Actually, I still owe him a drink. Do you have visiting hours or something?'

Thor didn’t answer to that, at least not directly, he just shook his head in expression of utter helplessness and emptied his cup in one enormous gulp.

Tony blinked, going almost cross-eyed from intense focus and quite probably, booze. 'You don't know, do you? You didn't even try to talk to him!'

'No, I did not.' Thor's deep sigh made the glassware and the whole table shudder. 'Each and every time I tried to reason with him, I failed. Each and every time it caused even more pain, more chaos and damage. It even reached you and your world.’

'So for you it's like choosing between your not-bro and your girl, in a way. Sorry if I'm wrong, I'm awful when it comes to that kind of stuff. See, where I come from I'm considered an, um, responsible adult, technically, but it's only now when I'm starting to appreciate, you know. Having someone like this.' Tony couldn't help but smile, his hands waving his still mostly full cup, splashing around its contents, trying to help to explain how impossibly important _having_ and _someone_ parts were and failing hopelessly, not understanding it completely himself.

'I don't even know if I'll ever see her again if you decide you need to keep me here. If you do, I'll make one hell of a mess, I promise.’ The warning came with a smile a bit too wide, too full of teeth. Thor understood, nodding slightly with something surprisingly close to respect. 'Trying to keep me locked doesn't pay off, but we can make a deal. I need to know exactly one thing first but no matter the answer, I'll stay here for a bit. Need a place to hide anyway, to fix some stuff. In the meantime, I'll do whatever you want, if it doesn't involve horses. Even talk to this crazy bag of cats.'

Thor grinned like he was supposed to, regaining his sparkling colours, just for a split second, but enough for it to seem even more hopeless since he decided to trust with such an enterprise to a snarky, mortal asshat. There was something about drowning men and razors, the memory of it temporarily flooded with amber liquid.

'I was right that you and him are alike. Making deals and winning the battles in most crafty way is your forte. Was his forte. He finally lost, with himself, it seems,' Thor added, stormy clouds gathering in his eyes again.

'Not yet, Point Break. Not yet.' Tony stood up, using Thor's arm as a support, the world around him swaying slowly in comfortingly familiar way. This state allowed best of ideas to surface and put bad memories to sleep, the only kind of true rest he had in months. 'He's alive and kicking, right? As long as he stays that way, anything can happen. Anything, really. Shitloads of awful stuff too, probably, possibly, but not necessarily.'

 

* * *

 

 _When I finally get home, I'll buy out those guys responsible for Guiness Records and invent the whole new category, being, Weirdest and Most Epic Hideout Ever,_ Tony decided, closing the door of his makeshift workshop. It was only his second day in Glam Vikingland, but he already felt like his very skin was acquiring same shade of warm gold those guys loved definitely too much. Actually, he could make it fashionable.

At least their tools and resources were satisfactory. Utilizing them required shit-tons of most crazy translation job ever, but once he managed to decipher and understand their overly decorative manner of explaining reality, it turned out to be pretty neat. Awful waste of paper and anachronic writing utensils, but whatever.

He still hadn’t had  the opportunity to keep his promise, not that he was complaining. Not his fault, totally - after he somehow managed to sober up, it turned out that he doesn't even need to ask for access to amazing, LGBTQ-friendly travelling Asgardian technology. Not that they allowed him using it directly, that would be just too good. Thor did it instead, suddenly remembering about how much he missed his girl, also, proving that popular opinion about his lack of skills not involving hammers or burning liquids was very, very wrong. Blonde Aesir turned out to be surprisingly inventive when it comes to mobile phones, newspapers, inquisitiveness and public transport, filling his part of the deal with a little help from his girlfriend and her BFF, passing Tony’s message to those few people he considered important in record time.

Since Thor's return, Tony's unplanned trip to Asgard started to be quite pleasant, if not for disturbing Ten Rings-related details which required fixing his rather moody, youngest metal kiddo ASAP and also, some cosmic trouble currently calling for his immediate presence. Everyone was okay. Pepper was okay, Rhodey and Happy were okay, moderately, he himself was obviously still missing and there was some serious shit going on in the media, but he didn't care about that so much anymore. With a bunch of sensors in his pockets, one gauntlet covering his hand in case of angry prisoners and their equally angry guards with no sense of humour, and contraband newspaper hidden safely in gaudily ornate chest locker, he felt pretty safe and self-assured. There was Pepper's photo in that newspaper, not exactly favourable or maybe, objectively, even kind of ugly, with ruins of their home serving as background, but currently it was the best, prettiest, most precious picture of her he'd ever seen.

 

It was more than slightly surprising, to discover that bulky blonde godling of all things loud, flashy and flamboyant was still dating the quiet physicist who might smoothly pass for Bruce Banner's younger sis - pink version, of course. Not that Tony didn't know about her before or didn't read some of her work, sure he did, it was in SHIELD database after all. Meeting her in person was another matter completely.

'Essentially, this convergence thing happening to the Realms which would make each and every astrology lover squeal like a cheerleader makes breaking the barriers easier and I did exactly that. I invented Star Trek. Even better, I invented long-distance Star Trek by accident, yay.' High-ceiling, vast chamber Thor had decided would be perfect for such a conversation did weird things to Tony's voice, deepening it and multiplying in particularly disturbing manner. Apparently Asgardians were all about making impression in every aspect of life.

'It sounds about right. Also, Star Trek has a proper, proud ring to it. I am sure that the day when Midgardians build their own Bifrost will come soon, and you, my friend Tony, shall be the godfather of Star Trek bridge.'

'What the hell are you...'

'Excuse me?'

'Guys, guys, please, I beg you!'

Forgetting about this girl's presence was so very easy, not just because of her unassuming personality and delicate frame, currently wrapped in Thor's stormy cloak and nestled against his impressive arm. Like Brucie, she mastered hiding in plain sight skill, in both cases combined with perceptiveness and quiet brilliance. Her laughter was anything but quiet though, even in her not exactly healthy state and it made Thor's still gloomy face brighten up.

'I'm afraid Tony won't be able to name his invention this way, it's already used for... something else, but it... nice, you are right.' Still smiling, Jane ran her fingers along Thor's braid. Apparently braids were fashionable this season, it was a good thing that Tony kept his hair short, they might try bribing him into this ridiculous thing too.

'I don't know the right words, we don't have it yet after all, but for me it seems that this phenomenon generates some kind of four-dimensional gravitational well which is the source of power build. It's still not complete but it already has some effect and your method of utilizing it, even if accidental, was simply the most precise. This is why you were the first. It's based on the Tesseract after all.' Jane raised her eyebrows, her gaze moving from Tony's built-in flashlight to his face and back. It seemed that he was not the only one person hacking, pardon, _eavesdropping_ SHIELD stuff around.

'So I got a crack-in-reality generator here.' Frowning, he tapped at ARC casing. 'I got an engine but no steering wheel and luckily I ended up in a fairly safe place for some unknown, magical reasons, not that I'm complaining. For now it works only in certain conditions. It needs a push, more power, in this case, convergence. Basically, it'll get worse in time. Kind of like you.' No point in hiding it. He wasn't a witness to how Jane's examination went, but Thor's epic pouting afterwards, some brilliant brainstorming and a few sensor readings were more than he needed to know. Also, it wasn't hard to make Thor talk. Becoming part-time and obviously far less insane substitute for Loki was a bit unnerving, but it paid off.

'We're both glowing. Me, literally, you, not so much, but enough for people to notice.' Tony somehow managed to extract one of miniature sensing devices from his awfully tight pants' pocket. 'Not people too, which is much, much worse. I still can't believe you call them elves, Peter Jackson would cry himself to death.'

'You too have no idea how to get this thing out of me, do you?' Jane somehow managed to trick chamber echoes, her voice soft and quiet, yet Tony could not help but stop his pointless, increasingly helpless babbling. Terrifyingly intuitive too, this girl.

'Nope, yet. Not enough data. I might have a theory though, or just a hunch,' he responded, squinting at his phone, currently serving as a sensor display. Thor might not share his girlfriend's brilliance, but his memory was quite okay and he didn't forget to mention that Aether weapon wasn't the only _Svartálfar_ invention. It was just a moment, a few hours back, when Tony had noticed something ultimately alien while wandering along seemingly endless, gold on gold corridors; completely different from everything he'd encountered before, but, hell, or rather, Hel, this was Asgard. Place both scientifically impossible and perfectly explainable at the exactly same time, being surprised here was actually something to be expected and should have calming effect, really. Not this time though. After all these years of maneuvering through more or less, and usually more literal minefield, Tony Stark had learned to trust his battered guts. They preferred to avoid further damage and usually knew what they were doing.

He stood up, wincing slightly as the pants shifted, pinching the parts of him that he would really prefer to be left alone.

'Okay. Gimme a sec, or two. A bit more, actually. Got to check something that might be connected to that. And also, I'll finally pay a visit to the reindeer.'

 

* * *

 

Asgardian dungeon brought some serious relief to Tony's gold-abused eyes. He was slowly reaching the point at which he'd probably start to consider repainting his suit and there were far too many people who'd be very happy about that.

For a place bearing such an ominous name it was pretty neat and maybe even cozy, except for full wall window-like thingies pulsating with energy which made the sensors go crazy once he moved too fast. Most of cells were filled with moderately human and exaggeratedly intimidating creatures, wandering around lazily and poking one another without much conviction. Tony couldn't quite remember how this particular one looked like, the one which he had noticed before but hadn’t paid enough attention to it. There were guards close by after all, awfully humourless and completely ignoring the fact that their prisoner was surrounded by Aether-tinted field. As far as Tony could remember, this guy was big, bulky and rather nasty looking, which eliminated exactly one individual, the one he'd promised to visit. Also, the one he unfortunately found much faster than he'd prefer.

'Huh. Hullo? I was asking for a reindeer, not Ian friggin' Astbury so there must be some kind of mistake.'

Tony moved a bit closer just to be sure, but the person lying nonchalantly across rather crude bed was definitely God of Mischief, not even one drop of gold on him, his slightly messy hair spread over pillows.

Loki froze, frowning, some small object in his extended hand, in this particular moment resembling a teenage girl taking shameless bedroom selfie.

The godling stood up slowly, fixing his tunic in a gesture far too elegant for a place such as this, his brows drawn together in slight confusion.

'I didn't manage to smuggle anything this time and honestly, I'd gladly make you formaldehyde-based Bloody Mary but that'd probably be pointless anyway considering the kind of booze you drink here and also, your bro wouldn't be happy if he found out about that, so I guess it's even better this way.' Tony's mouth apparently decided that his newly upgraded gauntlet needed some serious testing and it seemed to be working. Loki's expression changed from disbelief and confusion to _I'm going to check if this force field really works_ and he'd probably do that if two things didn't happen at once.

Firstly, godling's gaze wandered down, from Tony's face to his knees barely visible from under the obligatory embroidered shirt, rapid blinking giving away new wave of intense bafflement. Usually Tony had nothing against showing off his bum, it was just that all the clothes here were either too long or too narrow and he’d ended up with absurd combination of both. It wouldn't be that surprising if Loki found this kind of fashion crime far more important than personal offense, actually.

Secondly, sensor readings went offscale. Now there was absolutely no doubt where this one special, Aether-touched prisoner was located, but it was far too late to ask any questions. Cursing under his breath, Tony dropped to the floor, successfully avoiding some spike-covered and half-baked guy flying by. At least the gauntlet didn't turn out to be yet another failure in the long row of today's mishaps, the mechanism unfolding obediently to cover his whole arm.

He obviously knew better than to jump straight into the middle of whatever was happening, armed in single, untested repulsor and some local version of missile barely stitched together with the rest of makeshift design in last possible moment. Still, there was enough work for him, with released prisoners running around and guards mostly ignoring them, obviously focused on the cause of this sudden havoc.

Such limited space didn't make dealing with prisoner guys any easier, fortunately they were unarmed, which evened the odds a bit. The whole encounter became moderately painless when it turned out that they were mostly trying to find a way out. Also, to avoid confrontation with the large, barely humanoid creature which definitely wasn’t around before, emitting wild waves of something Tony still had to find a proper name for and effortlessly shrugging off flurry of blows dealt by constantly shrinking group of guards. That’s what finally proved to be the biggest problem.

In the meantime, blasted godling regarded the whole scene with a look of mild amusement on his face, focused on tangling his hair around his fingertips and leafing through the pages of a book which he obviously memorized centuries ago, all that in ostentatiously lazy manner.

‘Huh… I guess you’re not open for negotiations?’ Surprisingly, the monster seemed to comprehend Tony’s words, now concentrated exclusively on him and soon it became clear that not in a good way. Apparently years and years of avoiding business meetings didn’t pay off.

 _So that’s how it feels when your brain’s evaporating_. There was some kind of follow-up referring to Tony’s ruined hair and rather vague memory of this one time when he’d fallen asleep in solarium while severely drunk. Soon it all became drowned out by a wheezing sound apparently coming from his own throat, currently being crushed by creature’s enormous hands, his back pressed against shining energy barrier separating him from Loki’s cell.

Then the glorious _fight_ instinct kicked in, making Tony’s armoured hand jump up and fire the repulsor straight in the middle of critter’s nasty face, all this on autopilot. It didn’t look like he managed to hurt it, but apparently the ugly guy was stunned enough to drop his victim, allowing Tony to roll away and curl up in the corner. Before everything went blessingly dark, he managed to catch a glimpse of Loki, not that calm anymore, standing upright, his face intense, focused and just a tiny little bit upset.

Lights went back on way too quickly for Tony’s liking. Loki was still in exactly the same spot, first and probably last round of his glaring contest with the creature nearly over.

It ended with godling’s failure, his opponent reaching out to breach the barrier, but not surrender; despite the absence of glowsticks of destiny or other sharp objects Loki moved back just enough to make space for whatever his still empty, but green-glowing hands were about to do.

He was still the same treacherous asshole, but it seemed so fundamentally wrong to just lay there, pretending to be properly dead and simply watch. Especially that Tony still had the surprise Viking-made missile which begged for testing. His half-fried brain seemed to agree with his instincts - if the weapon turned out to be more efficient than anticipated, Reindeer was gonna get actually, literally _blasted_ too but if not, he didn’t expect for any of them to get out of here alive anyway. Win-win situation, sort of.

Releasing mechanism worked, not as smoothly as it should, but who would pay attention to such details when the missile itself turned out to be _considerably_ louder. There wasn’t much he could say about its effectiveness though. The sound of explosion and reactor’s response to sudden and alien energy surge it wasn’t designed to sustain made the world black out again.

 

* * *

 

It was much, much later when Tony learned that he’d spent offline the best, or rather, the worst part of what had happened. For a few hours filled with wide variety of moderately effective procedures which were supposed to make his fried back and bruised head useful again he tried to decide whether he’d prefer to avoid this mess, like he mostly did, or rather have his part in it.

He didn’t ask to come here, at all. His initial enthusiasm fueled by inborn curiosity faded, gradually replaced by anxiety, concern and longing. Also, grief.

There wasn’t much logic in it. These were strangers, not even human, just some pseudo-god entities treating him mostly like shit, but one, single glance in Thor’s general direction was enough for him to come to a final conclusion. Tony wished he was there, he wished he was better prepared, tougher, useful, less fragile, less _mortal_. Naming this particular feeling was uncharacteristically easy – it was naïve, completely groundless, pointless guilt.

 

Contrary to Tony’s initial assumptions, puny mortals were allowed to attend the Queen’s funeral. Or rather, nobody opposed to that, so both of them showed up – Jane, for obvious reasons, he himself, because wandering along the halls unsupervised lost most of its charm when combined with being left alone with his thoughts. Everything seemed better than that, even witnessing this overly dramatic and somehow still impossibly honest display of sorrow.

It looked like literally each and every citizen of the city, including surviving guards, was there, with one meaningful, noticeable exception everybody persistently ignored. There were numerous possible reasons for that, from Loki’s current form being a sorry pile of ash to his not-dad turning out to be even bigger asshat than Tony suspected.

The obvious assumption was, that vaporizing someone, even a dangerous criminal, was something he’d be at least informed about. Thor’s behaviour ruled out another option, that the reindeer had been zapped by someone else. He was understandably upset, but the grief, no matter how deep, didn’t seem overwhelming or paralyzing, which probably meant that Loki was more than less alive and still locked up somewhere.

Tony almost managed to convince himself that it was all about checking if his idea how to disable the force field safely actually worked. He didn’t need any audience for that and definitely not an angsty and batshit crazy one. Nope. Absolutely. Yet in fact, it was literally the first time when he regretted expressing his wish that the godling should be isolated forever, no matter how naïve such self-fulfilling prophecy appeared to be. It felt wrong and he was slowly getting used to feeling wrong in connection to Loki. Maybe it was simply a part of trickster’s disturbing nature.

He left before the flaming arrow was fired.

 

Loki was indeed there; the only prisoner left, still in his cell even if unguarded, apparently having no fucks left to give. Sitting on the floor was the only thing unchanged though. No matter how indifferent he seemed before, there was this energy, this  _buzz_ , impossible to describe in any language Tony knew, so awfully prominent, as if the godling was a tightly compressed spring just waiting for the right moment to jump up and knock a certain somebody’s only eye out. Now he was completely motionless. Apathetic. This alarming feeling intensified when he raised his head, sending one, single glare from behind tangled hair, saying –  _I can always kill you later_ , half-heartedly,  _now leave,_ not caring enough to express it aloud.

There was something deeply, intensely  _honest_ about him, for the first time showing fully, something only Thor was able to notice and Tony was starting to understand the thunderer and his nearly childish stubbornness when it came to saving his bro so, so much better. It’s not that something actually changed apart from the mess, both when it comes to what once was almost luxurious room - at least for a dungeon, and its inhabitant; bloody, rumpled, his clothes torn. It was exactly when he began to  _feel_  real, a person, no matter that he wasn’t human, and not just a threat in a rather nice packaging.

‘So… usually I tend to hate people or not quite people who tried to kill me and it’s not that I exactly stopped, it’s just… damn. There are things I hate more, I guess.’ Tony shuffled his feet, rediscovering awkwardness which he mostly got rid of and it wasn’t the kind of discovery he welcomed enthusiastically. Obvious reaction was, to let his mouth run.  ‘Whatever. Brought you something. No formaldehyde, promise - it’s poison in case you don’t know. This is proper booze, I’d even prove that to you, the problem is, I assume you wouldn’t appreciate me drinking straight from your bottle and it seems that there’s no single whole glass left in Asgard, I checked. Seriously.’

It was a tiny little exaggeration, but if Loki intended to erase him from the face of Asgard, it didn’t make any difference. Currently it didn’t make much difference if he was going to survive this encounter either.

Not that Tony no longer cared about getting back home, or about all those things that made him tick just a few days back; many simple, ridiculous and almost unbelievably significant details which kept him in one relatively sane piece without constant struggling. For the time being none of it was important, the setting too surreal to actively remember  _before_. Like always in similar situations, he could almost hear this whisper, saying  _is that really worth dying for, it’s stupid, you’re supposed to be a genius_ , the voice reminding him suspiciously of Rhodey and, like always, he chose to ignore it.

‘Oh, fuck, whatever, here. I guess you could use more than some of it.’

The barrier was easy to disable, really, what’s all the fuss was even about.

The godling didn’t move, not single inch, so Tony climbed to cell’s slightly elevated floor with visible difficulty, breathing heavily after this miniscule effort, his back awfully sore and head pounding, more tired and worn out than he suspected but unable to rest before… he had no damnedest idea what.

Somehow he managed to drop the dusty and a bit chipped bottle to the floor before Loki rushed in his direction, déjà vu hitting full-strength, Tony’s back connecting with this time solid wall, new wave of pain passing through already damaged body.

‘Who are you to always stand in the way?!’ Loki roared, his voice equally sharp and broken.

‘You should have  _not_  been here, it was  _not_  supposed to happen!’

Tony could only hope that Loki’s state of mind allowed the godling to notice obvious redundance of asking questions and simultaneously crushing his interlocutor’s larynx. For one or two seconds too many it seemed it was all purely rhetorical, but before Tony was given the opportunity to discover whether he was too tired for full-tilt panic attack, the pressure on his neck suddenly stopped, immediately replaced by far less dignifying kind of discomfort located where his pants were the tightest and caused by the floor.

‘I don’t know,’ he managed, letting out sounds barely resembling human speech between stinging draughts of painfully thick, but still indispensable air. ‘I know. _I know._ ’

_I shouldn’t be alive, unless for a reason. Was it really that reason?_

Loki’s eyes narrowed and then closed, his eyebrows drawn together, this time not in anger, but sorrow and understanding and something _shared_ , something both elusive and solid enough to give him back this impossibly human edge. Because despite severe vagueness of Tony’s choked words, they were, in fact, fair answers.

Turning his face away, Loki slid back to the floor to sit in exactly the same spot, followed by a bloody trail. Not much could damage a godling but apparently this particular godling was perfectly capable of damaging himself.

Finally, Tony regained his voice and this one, single time decided to put it to good use.

‘So… I’m gonna leave now. See ya ‘round. Or maybe not.’

There was still the issue of lowered barrier, but first things first. Tony managed to get up without too much wincing and what’s more important, too much staring. Not bad, nothing was broken,  _again_ , probably, so he needed approximately four to seven seconds to get the hell out of here and re-enable the force field.

‘Stay.’

Tony wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially not to himself and not Loki, by some impossible luck still looking away, but this single quiet word made him jump up at least one foot.

Still not used to feeling wrong in connection to the trickster then. Yet apparently Tony was slowly getting there, since it took him much less than four seconds to discover that it didn’t matter at all if the reason for this request was pure wickedness, reindeer’s inborn urge to contradict everything or something else entirely. He found himself a fairly clean, un-bloodied spot and plopped down awkwardly, this time minding his hurt back.

‘Huh. What?’ More reasonable part of Tony’s brain finally started to keep up with intuition, but it was already too late to withdraw. Loki was  _looking_  at him, so damage control was the only option left.

He could do damage control.

‘Okay, I might as well sit here for awhile. It’s prettier than the outside at the moment anyway.’

Or not.

Wickedness, then. Alternatively, what was much less probable, Loki simply didn’t know what to say. The bottle, still unopened, seemed to stare at them both with silent, dusty resentment.

‘So… you read my file. You read all of it, I bet. You know I’m uh, an orphan too. Not that it exactly matters, I’m old-ish. For a human. I mean, you’re old too, what I’m trying to say, is…’

No sharp objects were drawn out and no necks crushed, so Tony decided to continue.

‘I have no idea what’s going on in your head and honestly, I’m not sure if I’d like to know, ever, no matter how fascinating it obviously is. I still have a bit of self-preservation instinct left, yay me. I know close to nothing about that kind of stuff, I don’t get it, really, no matter being a certified genius and all, but there’s this one thing I’m certain of. It sucks so much to be alone in a moment like this. Nobody deserves that, not me and definitely not you. Nobody. Also, nobody deserves to be denied vengeance. About that last part. I’m not the only one who understands it. Your not-bro too, I think.’

 

* * *

 

In the end it turned out that not just Asgard, but also Thor himself were full of surprises. This particular surprise might be a quite nice one if not for highly disturbing feeling that Thor’s rather sudden coming up with astonishingly subtle and sophisticated intrigue was the final proof of brotherly bond being ultimately broken. Whatever happened after Tony had left, it must’ve been in a way more serious than the whole New York snafu.

Witnessing this conversation, or any of godling bros’ centuries-long adventures was absolutely unnecessary to realize that this part was usually Loki’s part. It’s not that Thor didn’t need Loki anymore. There was still a place for him at the thunderer’s side, Thor could still use his not-brother’s help; he simply, finally learned not to rely on it. He adapted, he became independent. Such disillusionment in Thor’s case, even if it didn’t change much in practice, considering the circumstances, was downright tragic.

Thor might still want Loki onboard, for reasons different than usual this time, but trusting him with a pretty vital part of this enterprise was another matter completely. Allowing by default insane and now more unstable than ever godling to lead their rather illegal way to the land of goth rapunzels alone was way too risky, even in the state of deep despair and determination both not-quite-brothers shared. That’s where puny mortals came into play.

Jane’s condition paradoxically turned out to be a possible way to cure it, her temporarily built-in Aether-fueled compass and Dark Elf magnet the only idea they had left and a pretty reasonable one. If Malekith was determined enough to come to Asgard to take it, following it to his homeworld was more than expected.

The suit’s upgrade was in moderately advanced stage, at least enough to risk travelling through interdimensional gate located in a spot no sane individual would ever try to access. That’s why Tony hired so many risk assessment experts. Usually.

He was uncharacteristically indifferent to the idea of getting sucked by yet another portal, none of such experiences in the past being even marginally pleasant, but it was not that he had much choice, really. Thor needed confirmation that the cleverly hidden crack in reality fabric existed at all; there was still the possibility that Loki simply considered driving them all into a mountain slope amusing.

It turned out that the passage was really there and with the bridge still off-limits it was the only potential, even if moderately probable way home. At least it opened a few new possibilities and Tony wasn’t the only person around who wanted to reach Midgard.

Up until some point the plan worked perfectly. Even the most tricky parts of it, first Loki localizing the right spot, then Jane surviving whatever Malekith did to her to get his thing out. Like always, such a fortunate turn of events was a harbinger of catastrophe.

Tony’s role, after confirming that they wouldn’t end up flattened against rocky wall, was rather simple. With the particularly gross glow cloud of aethereal goo gone, Jane became pretty vulnerable, protected only by her wits, currently dulled by exhaustion. Tony was grateful both for elder beings in stylish costumes ignoring seemingly harmless puny mortals and for miss Foster being conveniently accustomed to unusual airborne experiences, all thanks to her godling boyfriend.

From a distance Tony could see Thor’s unsuccessful attempt at destroying the ugliest, most terrifying negation of most laws of physics he’s ever seen. There was absolutely nothing fascinating about this thing, not just because it was designed as a weapon. It was a parasite, a monster, living off its host’s expense. Jane turned out to be impossibly tough yet again, being able to survive it for so long and apparently without any persisting damage.

Getting back to where their space drakkar was left turned out to be fairly easy as well. That was exactly when the course of events began to spiral downwards and Dark Elves swarming the vehicle were a just a small part of the problem.

It was nearly impossible to focus on everything at once, no matter Tony’s immunity to sensor overload, but he managed not to miss any of important details. Loki almost getting swallowed by a portable black hole. He could use one of these, actually. Aether’s both original and current owner managing to escape, taking with him the only working long-distance ship around. No hitching a ride back home, then. A rapunzel closing on Jane, brilliant girl using ship’s ignition as a makeshift weapon, sautéing the guy on the spot. Another rapunzel leaving a really ugly scratch on Tony’s suit’s previously immaculate chest plate; he personally preferred them well-done, not raw. Thor getting whipped around by the same bulky creature Tony had doubtful pleasure to meet in the dungeon. Finally, Loki running a blade through it, exactly when Tony managed to get rid of his own share of elves.

Then, Loki getting stabbed with the same blade, a look of slight surprise on his face, as if there was no place for fear or pain left amongst all this grief he’d recently experienced.

 

‘Take me down.’

It was Jane, staggering, pale and extremely determined. Tony would definitely prefer to keep away from what was happening below, but her presence changed everything, also by reminding that he’d decided to stop being a selfish asshole.

 

It was both different and similar to what had happened before. Thor was not alone, he had Jane; Jane was tiny, fragile, mortal and impossibly strong, Thor didn’t need any extra support, Thor was stable and sane and _decent_.

Excuses. Tony had already learned that much. Lowering his gaze felt somehow proper, but he stayed there, close, waiting, not hiding behind any of his usual façades, some lesser part of his brain focused on newest batch of readings, the rest prepared to find a way to get anything Thor might need in such a moment. Or rather, almost anything.

The convergence was close, Tony could feel it in his bones. It was particularly clear in this empty place, once home to star-trekking beings, much older than gay friendly bridge-owning Asgardians. Their world was covered by a thick net of ancient, faded cracks, now turning into inter-dimensional chasms; the only point was finding the right one. He could do that, and he did.

Thor was visibly torn between equally important issues – and people. For the virtually immortal Asgardian it didn’t actually matter that one of them was dead. The only difference was that Loki could now wait for as long as necessary, yet somehow it seemed that Thor considered just leaving him here not very unlike abandoning someone utterly helpless.

Before getting up, Thor leaned over his younger sibling for the last time in mostly failed attempt to fix his ruined clothing, a very recent memory of how meticulous, even while imprisoned, Loki used to be hitting Tony straight between his eyes.

They both started speaking almost in unison, with Jane’s deep, sorrowful sigh serving as background.

‘Just go, okay? I’ll join you ASAP, I’m sure your dad’s special forces already have our plates and will be here in a moment.’

‘I have an important and doubtlessly unpleasant favour to ask, your honour will not be damaged in any way if you refuse.’

‘I know, Point Break. Go. I’ll stay with him. I already found us a way outta here. There’s this spot nearby, it smells awfully of home. Our home. Meaning, the readings confirm it,’ Tony added, sending Jane a small smile. ‘It’s better than the one we used to get here so, go, now, don’t make me change my mind.’

 

* * *

 

That’s how Tony was left alone, probably the only living creature on this dead, hostile planet, with equally dead body of a godling who had begun to feel vulnerable, let alone mortal just a few hours earlier. Now him being a real person, not just a collection of extremes, was finally, irreversibly confirmed.

Loki’s skin was strangely cold to the touch, not that Tony could actually feel it, his hand isolated with several layers of various, rather resilient alloys. Yet when he finally found the courage to come closer and wrap godling’s remains in Jane’s abandoned cloak, the temperature readings went nuts.

Tony was definitely no expert in that field, but as far as he could tell, fresh corpses obeyed laws of physics. This one started to ignore them completely as soon as this miniscule contact was initiated. Loki’s mask-like, ashen face lost its paleness in favour of the most vivid, deepest shade of azure blue Tony’s ever seen, entirely red eyes snapping open but unseeing, glazed over, his whole body shaking, apparently every shred of strength he had left put into chaotic attempt to push away armoured hands which weren’t even touching him anymore. The creature, sharing Loki’s features but not the _feel_ of him let out a painful howl, completely indifferent to the sound of loading repulsor, overwhelmed by evident pain.

Of course, Tony remembered. _Adopted_. He made proper research after he’d heard about it for the first time and knew exactly what was going on, he just didn’t expect Loki not wanting him get hurt. There was no way for the godling to know that solving the icing problem was literally the second thing Tony usually did after coming up with an idea for a new suit, the first being choosing proper colour scheme. Also, he didn’t expect Loki to be alive, obviously.

There was still one issue to deal with though, being, jagged-edged hole in Loki’s elaborate armour, revealing torn flesh underneath. Godling or not, him being alive for some impossible reasons might not last for long. The blade apparently had some, but not enough of cauterising effect, once green folds of Loki’s tunic soaked through with blood, now almost black.

Yet the godling still fought, more of a reflex coming straight from his distressed brain than conscious decision not to hurt the only person who could help him.

Tony couldn’t exactly remember how to react to someone else panicking, it was _him_ usually doing it after all, but he got the basics. Familiar stuff, reassuring stuff, breathing, getting rid of the cause of panic attack. Last two were currently difficult to achieve, to say the least, so he started with the first. He raised his faceplate, leaning over the godling, but keeping enough distance, at least for now.

‘Okay, I _know_ it hurts like hell and this time I’m not exagerrating, it’s not good but I’ve seen worse and it’s not that you can call 911 here, also, you’d probably freeze them to death.’

It was both the first time when Tony’s trademark penchant for babbling about trivial stuff was actually useful and the first time when he felt bad about doing it.

‘You’d freeze them, but not me. See, this tin can was designed to survive extreme conditions, I’ve been to space in one of these, thanks to you by the way. This one is not that tough but you’re not generating absolute zero temperatures either’

Tony had to wait a bit longer for Loki to come out of shock, but not too long. Once the chance of saving the godling appeared, he just couldn’t let that go. Ability to let go was something he lost permanently, together with military funding.

Finally, Loki lowered his hands and closed disturbingly crimson eyes, but quick, shallow gasps were enough of a proof that he was still alive.

‘You heal pretty fast, right? You just need something to start with.’ Dealing with Loki’s indented chestplate with armoured hands was tricky, but Tony didn’t want to cut it in naïve hope that its owner might still need it someday. ‘Let’s put this straight. Either you allow me to help you my way, or we can make a bet if you bleed out or drown in your own blood first.’

‘Do it.’ Speaking must’ve been extremely painful in such a state, yet Loki’s words were articulated flawlessly. Smug bastard, even now.

The hole in godling’s chest was almost perfectly centered, located lower and moderately clean compared to Tony’s own experience in that matter, but another wave of déjà vu hit him anyway. Same show, different cast. He wasn’t superstitious, but that thought was downright frightening. Having something important to do was the only reason he didn’t panic himself.

The laser cutter wasn’t half as precise as Tony was used to, still, it was precise enough. Apparently living tissue was easier to handle than machinery, yet barely – the smell of burnt flesh and hissing sound of vaporizing blood almost made him sick, but he didn’t consider closing the faceplate again. Somehow it seemed important, even now, when nobody was panicking anymore.

Loki tried to keep his face neutral during the procedure and failed hopelessly, his features changed nearly beyond recognition. Not having any choice left and being forced to rely on in best case stranger was terrifying enough. Pain, confusion and deep-rooted embitterment combined with the most primal kind of fear for his own life probably made the whole experience a hundred times worse.

Or not just probably. For Tony it was easier this way, no matter how twisted the whole idea seemed. There was no need for him to imagine, or guess. He knew it all, first-handedly, this impossible hurricane of conflicted emotions, shame and gratitude, distrust and relief. He managed to survive it, both physically and mentally; or maybe even more than just survive, he managed to win. With Loki, there was no way to predict.

Once it was over, Loki let out a painful cry and rolled to his side, his wiry body curling in a ball so tight it seemed physically impossible. For a few seconds Tony was convinced that he misinterpreted the situation, no matter how obvious it seemed - he was no doctor after all, but soon the godling started to regain his more usual colours; still shaking, but breathing without this awful, gurgling sound he made before, his eyes squeezed shut.

That’s why he couldn’t see what Tony saw, first with his own eyes and only then the readings, earlier simply too occupied to even think about it.

There was storm coming, but not moderately harmless, Thor-induced tempest, or regular Midgardian storm. It was sandstorm, on an epic level, complete with some pretty serious disturbances Tony didn’t dare to interpret at the moment, but had very bad feelings about it all.

There was no time to make precise plans, Tony’s survival instinct kicking in once again. Testing new tech in pretty extreme conditions was his specialty after all. He reached the abandoned ship in one giant leap, barely registering Loki’s face turning in his direction, foggy eyes fixed on him, following his path. Betrayed.

His expression changed to perplexed when it turned out that Tony didn’t leave to _hide_. Tony left to _bring the hideout with him._

 

It was quite fortunate, really, that Loki chose this particular spot for his unsuccessful yet still tragic finale. Just a few feet more and already overexploited Mark 47 might refuse to cooperate in a very, very bad moment, leaving both the godling and the human with still impressive, but completely useless piece of Asgardian sailing technology. Turning the boat upside down in still safe, but close enough distance from curled godling and then dragging them both underneath it was the last thing Tony managed to do before he discovered that the suit became uncomfortably heavy. There was exactly enough power left to fold it, but he wasn’t sure if it was the right moment for that, considering the company he was currently in.

Said company snorted and then fell silent, wincing and apparently trying to suppress laughter.

Tony couldn’t help but roll his eyes in response.

‘So what exactly was that?’

‘I’m not sure what you’re referring to,’ Loki answered, his voice still weak, but its tone proving that he knew perfectly well what the question was about.

‘For a god of mischief you’re quite an average liar. Well, I lied. You are absolutely terrible.’

Tony sighed before continuing, for a few seconds focused entirely on the effort of removing his helmet, banging his elbows on various surfaces, fortunately none of them being any part of Loki.

‘I mean, this prank you pulled. You really think I would believe you’re so clumsy? Well, apparently you are, just a bit. Nice way to get away, by the way, this way or another.‘ such perfect choice of words deserved a grin.

‘Stop this rambling.’

‘Not before you admit it. That was exactly what you wanted, right?’

‘And who are you, to always stand in the way?’

‘It seems that it’s exactly who I am, the guy who stood in your way, to hell or Hel or however you call it.’

Loki didn’t respond to that, not at once. Trying to find a marginally comfortable position with this kind of injury was nearly impossible even for such a tough individual; finally he ended up lying on his stomach, propped on folded arms preventing the uneven ground from irritating the wound, his face turned in Tony’s direction.

Each time Tony’s seen the godling from such a close distance, Loki’s face was contorted with rage, or grief, or pain. It was different now, his angular features seemingly soft in reactor’s dulled light, almost serene. Human. Real. Bleeding. Still a jerk and a criminal, but it was balanced out by him simply being Loki, the name finally gaining a personal meaning.

 ‘Yes, that was precisely what I wanted. Either to die instantly, or fake my death in a manner similar to how I deceived Malekith. It seems that I… miscalculated,’ Loki answered, his words careful.

‘Magic. And stuff.’

‘That is correct, excluding the second half of your reasoning.’

‘Oh, please.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Whatever. What I meant was, this thing you did, it kicked in anyway and almost drained you dry because of you ending up as a shish kebab. That’s why you, you know, later.’ Somehow it seemed improper to address directly Loki’s blue episode, even more than panic attack, but given how the godling frowned it was almost certain he understood. ‘Now you’re on the mend already so things went back to normal.’

‘Yes.’

‘But wandering around in this weather would probably still kill you and no, I’m not leaving you here, in case you wonder. Also, nobody’s coming anytime soon, I guess. This place is crazy enough without raining dead petrified elves and now it feels like that was exactly what was happening.’

‘I cannot be sure, given your tendency to use excessive amounts of meaningless words, but I assume that you have an idea how to solve all these problems at once.’

Yes, Loki was definitely healing, his voice stronger, breathing almost evened out and wicked, clever brain already scheming.

‘It kind of sounds like we were cooperating, which we’re not. Anyway, we got a way out, I think. Your bro used it not that long ago and every piece of data I managed to collect proves that he succeeded. It leads to Earth, I’m afraid, but I guess everything’s better than this shithole. If not, it’s simply the exit I paid attention to. There are more.’

‘And you simply wait for me to be healed enough to survive the storm?’ This time Loki didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

‘Yep. I said, I won’t leave you here alone. Who knows what kind of crazy ideas you might get?’

At this point they both seemed to realize that Tony’s excessive babbling wasn’t aimless and accepted it in mutual, silent agreement. There were some things which required stating, acknowledging, but not discussing and then, immediately drowning in digressions. Things like Tony’s fear of the void which _might_ await him on the other side of said way out. Things like Loki’s fear of dying alone and forgotten.

‘Thank you,’ the godling finally answered, then proceeded to prove that he understood the lesson. ‘And now, would you _please_ take that off?’ He gestured lazily in Tony’s general direction which probably, hopefully meant the suit. ‘It’s far too cold for my liking.’

‘See, and I thought you were fond of cold.’

Loki answered with a nearly proper death glare, but didn’t say anything. He was surprisingly warm in this form indeed, which was particularly easy to notice from such close distance, with Tony’s armour now folded into a neat package and his own partially removed.

Actually Tony was grateful for that, not just because he could occupy his brain with speculations about what caused this phenomenon. He was slowly beginning to freeze and it didn’t really matter if the credits went to Loki being a godling of fire, or some wild theory about energy flow and cellular regeneration which he happened to work on a few years ago. Still, it was fun to play with ideas so Tony did exactly that, in comfortable silence and increasingly comfortable warmth. Instinctively he snuggled closer to its source and that was when the hilarity and awkwardness of this situation hit him full force.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered, trying to crawl away, hoping that he might save at least one of his eyes from getting scratched out. Loki didn’t let him, confined space and returning strength making it way easier.

‘Don’t be. I owe you at least that much. This… liquor you brought before was appreciated greatly. Warming up, too.’

‘It’s not always about deals, you know.’

‘Are you complaining?’

Tony couldn’t help but laugh, his next words still marked with unassuming joy.

‘So what will you do, huh? Get back to Earth, stay and cause some more havoc, or find a nice and comfortable route to Asgard and mess there when it’s still vulnerable?

‘Actually, I was thinking the latter. Your realm holds no interest for me, but unfortunately it does not work both ways.’

There was a fundamental difference between understanding one’s motives and accepting them. Tony didn’t exactly comprehend it, but he could _feel_ it, even in Loki’s pretty extreme case, that’s why this conversation was possible at all. Still, there were many people who weren’t half as insightful. Director Fury was one of them.

‘Hey, it’s not that I exactly care, you know, your dad, not dad, whatever, is a piece of royal shit and I’m so very not sorry for this. I just can’t stand the thought that Thor might become a collateral damage.’

Loki’s expression went inscrutable and stayed like this even after a few seconds of silence, so Tony decided to continue.

‘He doesn’t seem to care about Vikingland half as much as about you and also, Jane. He asked me to stay here, you know.’ It could turn out pretty risky, to mention that now, but Tony hesitated long enough already. Again, it was too late to back away. What was more surprising, Loki didn’t do that either, his ridiculously long arm still wrapped around Tony’s shoulders, sharing his warmth in the most direct and equally improbable expression of trust ever. Tony reacted accordingly, using his own method of choice, being, honest words.

‘He chose his girl over you simply because you looked, um, properly dead. Dead can wait. If the situation was reversed, he’d leave too and I’d stay with her, if you know what I’m trying to say.’

‘No, I do not and it seems to me that you don’t know that either.’

‘Okay, once again. I don’t give a damn about Asgard. Thor does, not as much as he thinks, but he’s an extremely responsible guy. I should ask him for private tutoring sometime. Anyway. I do give a damn about him and you should too. He deserves that. Hope you’ll come to the same conclusion and see that messing with your bad excuse for a dad is so very not worth it.’

_Don’t do that, it’s stupid, if anybody’s a sad excuse it’s you, sad excuse for a genius._

Loki, that bastard, smiled in most innocent way he could manage.

‘You do realize that it all might turn out to be purely theoretical. The convergence will soon be complete and we will all be, how you put it… toast?’ Loki raised his eyebrows, thin lips still arched in mischievous smile. ‘I suggest dealing with that problem first. I assure you, no matter what I choose in the end, my first choice is obvious, being, survival.’

That said, he sat up slowly, his back bent in clearly uncomfortable, but no longer painful way, smile widening even more.

‘Shall we?’

Yet there was still one, vital question to be asked, apparently important enough to spare a moment.

‘And by the way. Are you, perchance, wearing my trews?

 

* * *

 

‘This is London. London, not goddamn’ Hollywood. Posh and stuff, no bug outfits allowed!’

After it had turned out that Loki wasn’t going to kill him as soon as they reached their destination, Tony’s cheekiness began to expand exponentially. The godling mostly ignored it, focused both on unimpressive surroundings and his own thoughts, no death glares or direct threats. Sometimes he even seemed to enjoy it.

Actually, it wasn’t exactly London where they ended up after crossing through what turned out to be quite a stable and safe portal. It was rather shady suburbs, old warehouses, shabby blocks of flats, most of them empty, suspicious pubs. Just a perfect setting for officially dead alien convict and multi-billionaire on the run.

‘I would like to notice that it is not me who breaks most of rules of decorum.’ This time Loki even spared a glance in Tony’s direction, no matter that openly mocking one, and a small smile. ‘And you seem not to realize that, not in the slightest. I thought that you are alleged to be a Midgardian equivalent of nobility, am I right?’

Tony didn’t respond to that mockery, perfectly aware of Loki’s version of _get a mirror_ being justified.

‘Okay, what I meant was, you draw attention and that’s cool, you kind of deserve it, but we’re trying to be discreet here and you’ve been on the news on like, every channel not that long ago. I look hilarious; you look like a wanted criminal from outer space.’

‘Is that better?’ Being accompanied by a dark-skinned girl, still speaking in Loki’s elegant voice, dressed in perfectly tailored coat which would look really great on Pepper was extremely disturbing, yet some kind of improvement when it came to safety.

‘So let’s make it clear. This convergence of yours. It works like this: once in a few thousands of years the Realms align in some pretty unique way and start to overlap. It’s weird and annoying, but mostly harmless, thing is, it can be used to do all kinds of nasty stuff. For example, to multiply the effects of Aether weapon and to spread it like, everywhere. The whole Universe. Jesus, that sounds so pretentious!’ Tony stopped his ranting for a moment necessary to squint at his phone but not long enough for Loki to interrupt. ‘Anyway. I get it, it makes sense, it doesn’t even break too many laws of physics, not that I’m very attached to them. What I don’t get at all is, why is it happening on Earth? It looks almost like some ironic twist of fate. Lifespan here is so ridiculously short, humans are pretty soft compared to you and can do no magic unless they’re me, but all kinds of nasty alien stuff seems to be dragged in this direction. I assume that shitloads of Norse myths and your pretty glowing cube ending up here weren’t accidental either?’

‘No, they were not.’ Awfully tall and equally gorgeous girl gave a lopsided smile reminding Tony that there was a godling of mischief and treachery hiding behind her soft features. ‘We have always considered this place… particularly easy to access,’ Loki explained, after a moment of hesitation, as if sincerity was something he had to focus on, even if there was absolutely no reason to lie, let alone holding any information being profitable. ‘Your ancestors were notorious when it comes to marking such places and events. In a way, you inherited this inclination.’

Tony raised his eyebrows, focusing entirely on the conversation and not their miserable, yet conveniently deserted surroundings.

‘If I’m interpreting it properly and I think I am, it means that there are more special places, not just my currently inexistent house. Also, StarkTower. I kinda did it the other way around but it doesn’t matter, they’re both parts of the system now. Because there’s more, right? The convergence happens once in a what, five thousand years?’

‘All your assumptions are correct.’ The godling nodded. ‘There are more places such as these, most of them ancient. Far older than I am.’

There was absolutely nothing hazardous in this exchange of neutral thoughts, in most part unrelated directly to either of them, but to Loki, in particular. His unique experience and knowledge were an advantage, but not over Tony, over their mutual opponent. Sharing both seemed obvious, there was absolutely nothing personal, nothing painful about it – so that was exactly what Loki was doing, still shielded with illusion. On one hand, he seemed uncharacteristically relaxed, maybe even relieved by this unique opportunity to leave behind everything that had happened, of not being the focal point, nor the cause of current events. On the other, such a normal chat - at least in terms of its participants’ attitude, if not the topic - appeared to be something he wasn’t used to or comfortable with, to the point of severe disorientation, visible even on a stranger’s face.

‘The system has to be balanced. I am not sure how it will respond, considering your unconventional input.’ Loki stopped, his, or rather her hands clasped behind the back, far too occupied with whatever was on his mind to even try to control such mannerisms. ‘Both unconventional and fully compatible input, it appears. _Svartálfar_ advantage comes from their focus on that issue, this is not their first attempt at utilizing convergence phenomenon and it would be wise to assume that they found the appropriate location already. We… need to start from the very beginning, but we do have an advantage either.’

‘When you say my input, advantage and beginning, you don’t mean my house and the Tower. They already took them into account, those spots are permanent. You mean _this_.’ Tony stopped too, fingers drumming on the reactor casing, the light, but not the sound completely blocked out by thick Asgardian-made fabric. ‘Me. I’m the chaos factor, I stand in the way and mess things up.  And it gets worse,’ He repeated his own conclusion from several hours back, ‘so soon they will be able to notice that. Shifting point influencing the system.’

‘Yes, this is exactly what I meant.’ Somehow it didn’t sound completely convincing. ‘This influence of yours seems negligible and quite probably will change nothing, but in certain conditions you might tip the balance. I suspect this is where Jane Foster’s help becomes essential. My knowledge ends here.’

‘Yup, same. Jane, and also, heaps of CPU power. Mine is almost dead. I could use some coffee and pizza too.’ Tony winced at his phone. ‘Thing is, your bro will probably be around.’

‘I have no intentions of seeing him.’ Loki resumed his, her strolling, apparently getting some idea about where to go. Tony followed him, mostly to stay audible without yelling.

‘So what, you expect me to leave you here and let you run around London loose?’

‘I expect you to keep the fact of my presence between us. I have no intention of revealing myself, in any way, but if you do that, there won’t be any reason for me to refrain from spending the rest of my time here in a way both creative and amusing. This time might be quite long if you, we succeed.’

_That bastard._

‘So what will you do, just lurk in shadows, waiting for Malekith’s move and then us reacting to it, to arrive in the last possible moment and save the day? You jealous of your bro being a hero, or what?’ Of course Tony realized perfectly that saying that aloud was straightforward nasty, but that’s how he reacted to threats. There was no other way of interpreting Loki’s previous words.

Also, he discovered that keeping up with the godling while babbling and trotting with a _suit_ -case in his hand was extremely exhausting. Damned long-legged Asgardians, apparently unable to give up this advantage even in mortal disguise. Still, babbling seemed to be more important.

‘And how will I know that you kept the promise and really got the hell outta Midgard afterwards?’

‘You will not.’ The girl turned around, just for a split second, her expression unreadable, but definitely not vicious. Closer to defeated, actually. Then she disappeared behind the door of the only moderately civilised building in this neighbourhood, being just a typical British pub. Also, obviously, the only place full of people. There was no way to guess how Loki looked like now.

Tony might even spare some of his precious time on localising him, but Loki was right about one thing – survival on a large scale came first. Annoying godling had been beaten once so he could always get beaten again. With Malekith and his crew it wasn’t that obvious. Also, avoiding dealing with Loki eliminated further wallowing in guilt and that wasn’t something Tony was fond of.

_Excuses._

Tony’s phone’s battery was almost drained so he quickly dialed Jane’s number, trying to push the disappointment and regret down some unused parts of his brain.

 

* * *

 

‘You really used a ruler? And a marker?’ There was no computing power, but nobody except Tony considered that a problem. Aside from absurdly mundane writing utensils, the calculations required a moderately detailed map and a physicist, until recently absolutely convinced about his insanity. That was the real reason for Selvig’s theory’s accuracy, probably.

Not Cardiff Bay then and not Canary Wharf either. Greenwich, with a tiny margin of error caused by Tony’s built-in torchlight.

‘Yes, that’s exactly what we did. Do you really think that the Egyptians used hyper-precise ARC reactor-powered computer farm to choose the location for Giza Necropolis?’ Jane still haven’t grown an inch, but she was in her element now and her unique kind of subtle strength was even more evident.

Direct confrontation with her intern and her intern’s intern went way smoother than Tony would ever suspect. Them not being particularly impressed by his persona was almost outrageous – until he remembered that those guys dealt with gods and aliens on daily basis and all this didn’t seem to impress them either. Also, they generously provided some decent non-leather clothes and food.

There was also Thor. Still in his bloodied armour, quiet and unmoving, looking more like some kind of blonde-haired, slightly puffy-eyed mountain and not the godling of battles won and loud partying. Tony had all the reasons he needed to spill the beans and rant about Loki – all except one. He was absolutely sure now that Thor’s words from a few days ago were true – he and the younger godling had at least one thing in common. They would both choose death over being locked up forever. As far as Thor knew, Loki was currently dead and if Tony’s silence could preserve this fragile balance, so be it. There was also equally likely chance of Loki showing up when things got heated – he was simply far too self-obsessed to rely on anybody else when it came to dealing with such enormous danger. Win-win situation.

_Even more excuses._

Finally, he promised Thor that everything was fine and that he would explain it all after this mess is over. It didn’t make him feel even a tiny little bit better, but fortunately there were enough distractions to forget about it.

 

It had been a long, hard night and the day didn't show any promise to be any better either. The weather was awfully British, damp, with possible Dark Elves heavy rainfall later.

No matter Erik Selvig’s freshly acquired open-mindedness, his equipment was still awfully crude. Tony had slightly under four hours to do something about it and he did. Thanks to his input the gear was able to survive in such awful conditions at all.

‘You’re not gonna stick any of these in me?’ He asked, hesitating for a few seconds before handing Jane one of Selvig’s firecracker-shaped devices. The only reasonable response was shaking one’s head and that was exactly what she did, yet still smiling.

Tony could improve the functionality, but the design was another matter completely. This time wasn’t totally wasted though. Firecracker-shaped thingies, also proudly known as gravimetric spikes, were able not only to stabilize the focal points of the convergence, but also, to interfere with it locally. Tony, currently armed only in his immense intellect and equally vast charm, definitely could make use of this idea since there was no way for him to avoid taking part in the whole enterprise. Not that he even thought about it, really.

He was supposed to stay out of trouble and, surprisingly, didn’t oppose to that, maybe exactly because of how difficult it was in such circumstances; he was still on the run and such occurrence would surely drag some press. It didn’t change the fact that he felt awfully useless, completely unarmed, vulnerable; equipped only with ancient iPad turned makeshift gravitational anomaly detector, watching the arrival of _Svartálfar_ ship from one of library’s office windows, feeling absolutely ridiculous in a hoodie, even more than in Asgardian way too tight pants.

He knew well that it was Thor who was supposed to be this show’s star. Thor was the toughest guy around, the only one who was capable of holding Malekith back long enough.

Well, there was always Loki, but Loki apparently didn’t give a shit about anything apart from his own ass after all and also didn’t mind puny mortals and his not-brother taking care of it. Tony was definitely over feeling disappointed with Loki. Now he was only disappointed with himself, for being wrong about him.

Soon he forgot about it completely. _Svartálfar_ ship was equal parts dreadful and magnificent, _tremendous_. Still, he was kind of grateful for Dark Elves paying attention to Aether exclusively and not him, back on their dead planet. He was perfectly fine with the external view.

Things were getting worse now, exactly as he’d predicted. It was less than ten minutes left until convergence peak and he already felt like he’d usually felt after his less decent birthday parties. It was the convergence and not the reactor itself, but still, being influenced by it in such a way _again_ wasn’t something to be happy about.

Thor seemed to have everything under control, at least up to some point. Then the convergence started and everything turned into enormous mess. People, aliens and objects disappearing and reappearing at random might be even sort of entertaining from Tony’s fairly safe spot if not for particularly disturbing and increasingly painful feeling of his guts being turned inside out, bones creaking, each and every cell trembling, trying to escape in its own unique and not exactly three-dimensional direction. Despite all this, he felt growing urge to forget about the plan, _since when did he make plans anyway,_ and leap straight into the action. The urge turned into necessity when Thor didn’t come back immediately after stepping into one of the unstable areas.

Malekith did, his alien face barely visible from behind thickening cloud of something that definitely wasn’t dust, pulsating and spreading, reaching upwards, starting to seep through the cracks in reality’s fabric, now not just theoretical, but clearly visible.

Tony realized perfectly that jumping off the window and making several steps in random direction wouldn’t change anything at this point. Before, it might - especially combined with taking a plane to Peru or any other remote location. Yet this confrontation was unavoidable and there were many places much, much worse than this one to do it. It was far too late for that now, so Tony did the only thing his sore brain was able to come up with in the meantime. He undid buttons of borrowed shirt, disengaging the reactor’s safety lock in record time. _Ouch._ Aether-infused air was almost impossible to breathe, thick and gooey, hostile. There was no way for him to survive in such conditions for approximately three minutes, even now, let alone with reactor pulled out. Lose-lose situation for once.

The air was squeezed into his lungs again, this time remarkably clearer, despite famous British smog.

‘You would achieve nothing apart from killing yourself and also, every living being in a few miles radius.’

Loki, that bastard, was here all along, lurking in shadows, exactly as Tony had predicted, still in his bug outfit, yet again pristine, no horny helmet though.

‘That was exactly the point, you selfish shit!’

‘But he would probably survive,’ Loki added, his eyes narrowing in obviously failed attempt to catch a glimpse of Dark Elf, now the literal eye of Aethereal storm. Soon he gave up, stepping behind a column when another reality fissure spewed out the second half of Asgardian angsty duo. Jane was there too, apparently sharing Tony’s reluctance towards keeping safe distance from the danger.

Thor retraced Tony’s steps, yet not interrupted by anyone, armed in a bunch of gravimetric firecrackers, God of Thunder challenging the primordial blizzard seeming somehow proper.

God of Mischief hiding and watching from a distance was equally fitting, still, Tony didn’t expect Loki to look so openly troubled by the fact that his not at all brother faced the danger alone. Yet he did absolutely nothing to stand by his side, like he used to. Despite everything that had happened it was still Loki’s place and there was no need to possess Jane’s impossible intuition to notice this internal conflict, reflected by a confused frown.

Tony could see much more despite being just a puny mortal, all thanks to makeshift anomaly detecting device. He knew what Jane’s expression meant and how it connected with what was displayed on his screen, one relatively small anomaly after another, Jane’s small frame barely visible on the other side of blood-red, swirling cloud, features frozen in intense focus, both her hands clasped on her own crack-between-worlds-triggering gizmo.

Whatever was going on inside, Thor was definitely still alive, at least for the time being. Only he was able to summon this ridiculous weapon of his, which entered the cloud with what seemed to be supersonic speed and sent Malekith sprawled against his own ship with thunderer’s trademark shimmering explosion. Then Jane sent the Dark Elf even further, hell knows where, rippling echoes of this anomaly clear even for Tony’s improvised detector.

Something was very wrong though. Thor wasn’t getting up, still lying on his back, pale and unmoving. Ship’s wreckage, its construction damaged now not just from colliding with the quay but also with its commander, began to crack and tilt in a rather alarming way, its outer layer falling off as if it underwent some kind of instant erosion.

Both Jane and Loki rushed in Thor’s direction, the latter now ignoring the possibility of being noticed. Nobody paid attention to him amongst all this chaos anyway.

‘We are even now, Stark. Do not forget about that.’ Loki stopped for a moment, sending Tony a meaningful glare, equal parts theratening and pleading. Then he turned away, taking in the whole scene with his trademark intensity.

Thor, more of a crushed, marble statue than his lively, loud and awfully _human_ usual self, defeated, motionless.

Jane, covering Thor with her tiny body, giving up mathematical probability in favour of hope and faith and quite probably, love.

Erik Selvig, following his instinct, no matter how close to pure insanity it seemed, reaching for Jane’s abandoned anomaly controlling contraption.

Loki leaned against Dark Elf ship’s decaying board, his eyes closed, hair dancing in Aethereal wind, wiry arms tense and trembling, fingers wedged in ship’s crumbling plating. No magic this time, no illusions, just pure, raw strength. No matter his complicated legacy, he was undoubtedly Thor’s brother, finally proving that exactly when his sibling wasn’t able to witness it, holding the shattering ship upright for a few moments necessary for Erik Selvig to open the last, giant crack, swallowing the ship before it managed to touch the ground.

Wherever Erik was going to send this still tremendous vehicle, it wasn’t the right place for any living creature, including Loki.

In fact, Tony didn’t need any external CPU to do unbelievable, impossible things, so close to Asgardian magic. He just needed a moment of clarity allowing him to squeeze chaotic reality into orderly rows of numbers, obeying his wildest ideas and powered by will.

Also, a tool, even the simplest, makeshift one, thrown together in the last possible moment, just in case.

The second crack opened just before the ship’s weight was about to drag Loki together with it.

Then the silence fell.

 

* * *

 

Luckily there was absolutely no time to give all this too much thought. With his suit still mostly defunct and time in best case limited, for at least two different reasons, Tony had to rely on Thor’s unusual means of transportation when it came to getting back to the right continent. It was awkward enough on itself, let alone combined with one of the weirdest conversations he’s ever had.

‘He _is_ alive, is he not?’ Thor muttered under his breath, his usually booming voice muffled by both their speed and thunderer’s not exactly subtle attempt at being unassuming.

For once, Tony decided to be as sincere and straightforward as humanly possible, so he said nothing. He really didn’t know how to respond to this question. Apparently for Thor it was enough of an answer, the one not providing any information, but more hope than he’d ever count on.

 

‘Hey,’ Tony said, for the umpteenth time discovering that his calculations were always right, no matter circumstances.

If it was a movie, it would be a middle of the night in here, currently most gloomy and forlorn place in the whole US and not just because of the whole bankrupcy snafu. Unfortunately time difference spoiled the mood, setting Detroit clocks to hopelessly anticlimactic 3 PM. At this hour even awfully dusty windows of abandoned factory were unable to block out ludicrously cheerful, golden light.

Loki didn’t answer, eyelids half-closed, slim body propped against the wall, his ridiculously long limbs folded in a way which must have been painful, but his chest was raising and falling rhytmically, no matter burn marks on his armour and slightly charred hair.

‘Hey.’ The human repeated, approaching the huddled shape with all precautionary measures possible, then giving up all of them at once in a single bout of inborn recklessness.

‘You won, you know?’ He continued, kneeling next to the godling and trying to wrap his way too short arms around Loki’s shoulders. ‘You did it. I just wanted you to know that.’

Again, there was no response, apart from loud, shaky exhale and Loki’s forehead touching Tony’s shoulder in attempt to make this impossible thing easier for them both.

Déjà vu hit Tony again, but this time it was warm and familiar and _safe_.

‘Stay.’

 

 

 

 


End file.
